The Proposal
by WhyAye
Summary: Pure Robbie/Laura romance/smut/fluff.  I meant to work on a crime fic while I had my week at the beach, but this is the bunny I packed, apparently.


Robbie Lewis couldn't help giggling as Laura Hobson struggled to get the key in the lock on the front door of her house. The mid-November air was bracing and Robbie felt revived by it after the stuffy air of the pub. The third member of their party, James Hathaway, was too bleary-eyed to notice; his attention was fully occupied with staying upright. The three friends had been out celebrating the end of a successful case, solved once again by their synergistic teamwork. Laura had been the designated driver and had allowed herself only a half pint of best, but the two detectives had imbibed without restraint and the effects were manifest. James was swaying ominously and Robbie was finding everything hilariously funny.

At last, Laura fitted the key to the lock and let them all in. They had decided to continue their celebration at her house so she could indulge in some serious drinking, and between the spare room for Robbie and the sofa for James (whose back, unlike Robbie's, could take it), she had enough room for all three overnight. By this time, however, Laura thought she would be lucky to get in more than one glass of wine before the men crashed.

She snapped on a light and James looked around, suddenly alert.

"The loo is . . .?"

Laura pointed and James found new speed as he trotted, a bit uncoordinated, down the hallway. Robbie laughed at his retreating back. Laura poured herself a glass of chianti and raised her eyebrows at Robbie inquisitively.

"Would you like a glass?"

He thought a moment. "Yeah, why not? Just one though. I don't need a hangover. Not with work tomorrow."

They sat and sipped their wine, revisiting the high and low points of the case, Robbie chuckling to himself every now and then at apparently random moments. After a while, Laura glanced about as though she suddenly remembered something.

"Where's James?"

"In the bog."

"But I heard him flush quite a while ago."

Robbie giggled. "You were listening to him peeing?"

Laura looked cross, but laughed anyway. "Of course. I wanted to make sure he didn't miss." She got up and went down the hallway, stopping before she got to the bathroom. James was in the spare bedroom, sprawled across the bed, snoring. _Ah_.

"He's turned in for the night," Laura informed her companion as she returned to the sitting room. "Took over the entire spare-room bed."

Robbie sniggered a little. "Then where am I going to sleep? The sofa will destroy me back."

Laura thought a moment. "Well, I suppose you could double-up with me." She watched him carefully to gauge his reaction.

He smiled, amused. "You promise to keep your hands to yourself?"

"Mmm. No. No promises."

He broke into a wide grin. "Laura!"

"Robbie, you shouldn't even feel you have to ask that. What kind of a girl do you think I am, anyway?"

He kept grinning. "Y'know, maybe someday I'll find out." He rose. "But unfortunately, tonight I'm too drunk to stay awake that long." He glanced down the hallway. "Okay if I turn in ahead of you?"

She waved him on. "I won't be much longer. Only need to put these things away and lock up."

He went a few steps away but then stopped. "Left or right?"

"Sorry?"

"Which side of the bed?"

"Oh. You take the side toward the wall, alright?"

"That's fine. I expect I'll be asleep by the time you get there." He covered a yawn. "G'night."

"Good night, Robbie."

She washed the wine glasses, corked the wine, checked the doors, and peeked in on James once more. He hadn't moved. She went into the room and removed his shoes, tie, and jacket, loosening his shirt collar. "Sorry, James, that's as far as I go." Then she brushed her teeth, washed her face, and used the toilet. At last ready, she entered the bedroom quietly.

"Robbie? You still awake?" The only response was deep breathing. He was solidly asleep, she decided, on his side, his face turned to the wall. She quickly slipped out of her clothes and into her pyjamas, then crawled between the sheets, facing him. She studied the back of his head, thinking how different it was going to be to share her bed with another person. She reached out a hand, tentatively, and touched his shoulder. It was bare. Feeling somewhat reckless from the wine, she slid her hand down his side until she touched the waistband of his underwear. It was all he wore. _Wow, he really trusts me, doesn't he?_ She moved down a little farther, cupping his bottom with her palm and kneading him a little with her fingers. He was soft, despite the underlying muscles she could feel. And warm. She leaned toward him and kissed the back of his neck. Then, feeling a bit guilty despite not having made any promise to behave, she pulled back her hand, rolled over so her back was toward him, and fell asleep, smiling to herself.

* * *

She woke up slowly, feeling very warm and cozy. Dim light showed through the curtained windows. Something heavy lay across her and there was an exquisite sensation coming from between her legs. As she became more aware, she realized it was a man's arm that reached across her waist, and the fingers of the hand at the end were rubbing her pubic mound through the fabric of her pyjama bottoms. She drew a sharp breath, but then remembered last night's sleeping arrangements. _Robbie!_ He was spooned up behind her, his breath warm on her neck, his semi-hard erection pressing against her. She took hold of his hand, pulled it up a little, and then slipped it inside, next to the skin of her belly. She nudged him back down into her tangle of hair and his thumb began rhythmically massaging her sensitive spot, his first two fingers dipping into her deeper wetness. She squirmed in pleasure. He continued his ministrations, beginning to mumble as he swam slowly out of his dreams. She clutched the sheets as her climax neared, and cried out when it hit, her body spasming in ecstasy.

He abruptly stopped moving and she heard a startled "_Huh?_" Then he yanked his hand out from the hot place between her thighs.

"Oh God, Laura, I'm sorry. Bloody hell. I was sleeping, I didn't realize . . ." He pushed himself away from her and quickly turned over. "Sorry about . . ." He exhaled, exasperated. "Bloody hell."

She turned over, too, toward him, and put her hand on his arm. He had been working on himself, pressing and squeezing, trying to diminish his desire. He stopped when she touched him.

"You don't have to apologize for anything, Robbie." She knew he was embarrassed both by his state of arousal and by how he'd been touching her. "That was incredible." She kissed his shoulder. "You're very good." He snorted. She kissed his ear, and whispered, "Would you like me to reciprocate?" She slid her hand down to his waist.

He turned his head, clearly surprised by her advances. "I didn't mean to . . . y'know . . . Only, it's an old habit, is all." He paused. "One I thought would be gone after all this time." More to himself than to her.

She rolled onto her back, disappointed. "I understand. Nothing to do with me, then. Still, it was fantastic."

Now it was his turn to roll onto his back. He stared up at the ceiling, no longer visibly aroused. "You, erm, . . . you didn't mind? I mean, I've got no business . . .y'know . . . touching you that way. I didn't mean to, Laura. I'm really sorry."

She couldn't help being wryly amused by his profuse apologies. "I said I enjoyed it, Robbie, whether or not you meant me to do. So, thank you."

They lay in awkward silence for some time. Laura refused to glance his way, but she longed to know what he was thinking. At last, she could bear it no longer.

"I wish you would say something. I feel like a fool."

He looked at her then, anxiety filling his face. "No, no, Laura, don't feel that way. Only, I'm . . ." He struggled to find words. "Confused, I s'pose. I'd told myself I was never going to feel this way about anyone else again."

"Feel _what_ way?"

"Y'know. To care about someone."

"Oh. 'Care about.' Is that how you feel, Robbie? You 'care about' me, that's all?"

He studied her eyes fully. "_Yes_. I won't let it be anything more than that. I _can't_. It hurts too much to lose someone when you love them."

Her emotions were in a tangle. Did that mean he _did_ love her, but refused to admit it to himself? Or that he _never_ would love her, never could? He explained no further and she swallowed hard against a rising bitterness, trying to work this out on her own, and feeling rather lonely.

After a long time, she reached over and took his hand. "Robbie, how old were you when you met Valerie?"

"Eighteen." No hesitation. _He probably even knows the exact date._

"What if you could go to that eighteen-year-old Robbie right now? He's studying this woman he just met and he's about to make the decision to get to know her better. But you know now how much pain results from that decision. If you had the chance to warn him, that young Robbie, to tell him not to do it because the pain will be too great, would you stop him? Would you tell him, 'Walk away from her, Robbie. You'll only be sorry when you get hurt in the end'? Would you?"

He considered this for a long time, rolling her hypothetical over and over again in his mind.

"No. No way. Our life together was worth it. I wouldn't have missed it for anything. Even with the pain. But I don't want to have to go through it a second time."

She smiled at him sadly. "You see, Robbie, all _you_ can see is the pain of losing someone you love. But all _I_ know is the pain of not having the chance to love anyone at all." Her gaze intensified. "I want that chance, Robbie. And you're the only one I want to love." She shut her eyes. _Please don't let this be a mistake_.

He inhaled deeply, thinking hard. After several minutes had passed, he reached over, taking hold of her far arm, and tugged her over and toward him.

"In that case, you better come here so I can kiss you, Laura."

Her breath caught and she rolled on top of him, melting in his arms as their lips met, his tongue seeking hers, tasting her, needing her. But he pulled back a little after a short time. "I've been so afraid of this. So afraid of being hurt again. I woke up during the night and you were there next to me and it felt so right to have you there, to share a bed with you. And that hurt, too, knowing I couldn't . . . y'know . . . have you." He took a deep breath. "I was thinking . . ." He stopped. She could tell he was seeking her trust.

"What is it, Robbie? You can say anything to me, you know that."

He drew in a breath and let it out slowly. "I was thinking I'd like to . . . y'know . . . I'd like to be married to you."

Her eyes widened.

"No, Laura, don't say anything. It's something I've been thinkin' about, is all."

Her mind whirled. "How . . . how long have you thought about this?"

He was a bit abashed. "Well, since Halloween, at least. You remember. When I thought we might lose you." He smiled wryly. "I knew then it would hurt. It scared me, that I could feel that kind of pain again."

She kissed him again, deeply. This time their tongues were eager, learning about each other.

When they pulled apart, he was smiling broadly. "I s'pose if I'm gonna hurt anyway, I might as well have some good times to remember." He squeezed her. "Sit up. Let me see you."

She sat upright, straddling his hips, smiling at him. She had him in her bed, wearing only his underwear, and sober now. A chance like this may never come her way again. She had to make the most of the opportunity.

Her smile became an impish grin. "You want to see more?" She stripped off her pyjama top in a fluid move. His eyes grew large. She could feel something else getting larger, too.

"Aw, you're beautiful, y'know?"

She traced a finger over his lips, down his neck and chest, and then over to his left nipple, rubbing it between her fingers and pinching a little. He closed his eyes, groaning slightly. She started to shift her hips back and forth.

"Laura . . ." She could hear the protest in his voice.

"You want me to stop?"

His eyes filled with concern. "It's only . . . I don't . . . y'know."

She did _not_ know, and her confusion was apparent. He firmed his lips, steeling himself for a frank disclosure.

"I don't think people should have sexual relations unless they're married."

There. He'd said it. "At least, not me. I know that sounds old fashioned. I'm sorry. But I really believe that."

She pinched his nipple playfully again. "Ohhh. You sure about that?" She was clearly disappointed. It strengthened his resolve.

"Yeah, I'm sure." His eyes traveled all over her. "But seeing what I see now, I have to say I very much hope you'll consider what I said as a proposal. And I hope you'll say yes." He saw she was starting to open her mouth and he hurried to continue. "But don't say anything now, wait til you've thought about it by yourself, okay?"

She nodded.

"Anyway, it doesn't mean we can't do anything at all, I only wanted to stop you before . . . y'know. Before we got too involved. There's nice things we can do that aren't sex." His expression filled with mischief. And something else. _Lust_, she realized, with a shock.

She grinned conspiratorially. "Show me."

He hooked his fingers in her pyjama bottoms, tugging them down, along with her panties. She complied and at the same time, removed his boxers. They lay naked together, Laura on top of Robbie's hardening erection. He put his hands on her hips, pushing her body down so his cock pressed against her belly. Then he began to rock his hips, rubbing his hard-on against her, his hands on her back, pressing her into him.

Her head lay on his chest and she shifted a little to one side, circling his nipple with her tongue, taking it in her teeth, nipping him and sucking on him rather noisily. He groaned in pleasure, his urgency growing. He reached his hands down to her breasts, and she pushed herself off him a little, easing his access. He brushed his palms over her nipples, barely touching them, sending sparks of electricity straight from them to her brain. The sight of her writhing in response increased his arousal. She glanced down at his erection and took hold of him, sliding his foreskin back and rubbing the tip with her thumb. A moan of ecstasy escaped his lips and he closed his eyes.

"Laura, God, I'm—" He groaned and wrapped his arms around her, smashing her down against his thrusting hips, now frantic with desire. Then he cried out, gasping, and she felt a hot spurt of fluid, slick between their bodies. He pulsed over a dozen times, eventually receding into shuddering. Holding her close to him, he kissed her hair.

"Aw, Laura. I love you so much." He was still breathing hard.

"Mmm, Robbie." She looked up at him with a teasing smile. "How does this not count as having sex, exactly?"

He kissed her on the lips. "It's _not_ sex, that's all. Not in my book. Trust me." He rubbed himself against her. "Bloody nice, though, except for the mess." He smiled at her.

Then his expression changed suddenly. "Erm, . . . I really have to pee. D'you have any tissues?"

She peeled herself off him and handed him a box from the nightstand. He wiped up his belly as well as he could, got up, and, still semi-erect, sprinted from the room.

* * *

Hathaway was emerging from the bathroom at the same time Lewis needed in. They caught each other by surprise, Lewis's brain fetching back to recall why Hathaway was here, and James wondering at catching his boss stark naked and obviously at some stage of sexual activity. Lewis blushed deeply and pushed on past Hathaway without a word.

Smiling smugly to himself, Hathaway proceeded into the kitchen and began setting up a pot of coffee. A few minutes later, Laura, in her pyjamas and dressing gown, joined him, getting out some mugs from a cabinet.

"Morning, Hathaway. How's the head?"

He considered a moment. "It's okay. Guess I'm lucky this morning." His wicked grin was immediately apparent. "And I think someone else got lucky this morning, am I right?"

Laura pretended to be stern. "Don't tease him, James. He's made an important and difficult decision this morning, and it's not yet nine o'clock."

Hathaway was intrigued, glancing over at her. "What important decision is that?"

Laura diverted her eyes. "I'm not certain it's for me to say."

Lewis appeared in the doorway, dressed in most of his clothes from the night before. He turned to Laura. "What's not for you to say?"

Hathaway smirked. "She said you decided something important this morning. Obviously it did not concern your fashion choice for the day. Maybe it's related to how you were dressed earlier this morning? Or should I say, 'not dressed'?"

Lewis returned the smirk and spoke frankly. "Not that it's any of your business, Sergeant, but I've told Doctor Hobson I'd like to marry her."

Hathaway's mouth fell open and his eyes shot to Laura for confirmation. "And your answer, Doctor?"

She smiled rather shyly. But before she could speak, Lewis interrupted. "She doesn't have to answer, not ever, if she doesn't want to. It's enough for me that I finally told her how I feel."

Always amused by his boss's rarely-seen romantic side, Hathaway grinned. "So how would this work, would she squeeze all her stuff into your flat, would you bring your box of belongings over here, or would you get a new place together? And have you set a date or anything?"

It was apparent Lewis had given this some thought already. "Yeah. December, the twenty-first. The winter solstice."

Hathaway piped up. "It's a Tuesday, no one gets married on a Tuesday."

Lewis stared. How James knew that without consulting a calendar, he had no idea. The man could be scary sometimes. Lewis redirected his gaze across the room and raised his eyebrows at Laura.

She smiled back. "Tuesdays are good for me. I think getting married on the solstice is a smashing idea. How symbolic: when the darkest day begins to brighten, and we can hope for the return of summer's warmth and light. That's so romantic, Robbie."

Lewis looked a bit blank. "Actually, I was thinking we'd have the longest night of the year in which to consummate."

The other two burst out laughing. Hathaway snorted. "Didn't you already do that this morning? All that groaning and gasping I heard."

Lewis was greatly offended. "We did _not_, for your information."

Hathaway's voice took on a high attitude. "How can you deny that? With the state you were in outside the toilet this morning?" The tension between the two men was growing noticeably.

Laura stepped into the dispute. "It's true, James. You know better than to accuse Robbie of lying."

Hathaway looked away, tacitly conceding the point. He muttered, almost to himself. "Well, you were bloody noisy about it, for not having done the deed."

Hobson further allayed the hostilities by changing the subject entirely. "It's gone half seven already. Are you boys catching a ride with me or have you both been given the day off?"

* * *

The day went by quickly. They had their report to write and numerous other loose ends to tie up. Lewis took his lunch time by himself, claiming he had an errand to run, so there was no awkward hour of idle chatter. As the workday's end drew near, Hathaway became still, studying his senior officer while he worked at his computer across the office.

"Sir?" Tentative; quiet.

Lewis's eyes met his.

"Would you really marry Doctor Hobson? I mean, you two haven't even really dated." Then he retreated. "I'm sorry, I know it's none of my business."

Lewis smiled gently. "'S'okay, Hathaway. I'm a bit surprised meself. But I knew as soon as I said it that it's what I want. Waking up next to her was perfect."

"What if she says no?"

It seemed he had already considered this possible outcome. "At least I won't have lost anything by asking. We'll still be friends. And she'll be welcome to change her mind any time." He appeared thoroughly content with his decision. Then Lewis cocked a crooked grin. "Besides, I can return this in the next thirty days if I need to. It's what I picked up at lunch." He flipped a small box across the desks to his sergeant.

James snapped it open and gasped. "This must have cost a small fortune, Sir."

Lewis was earnest. "D'you think she'll like it?"

Hathaway closed the box and handed it back. "If she doesn't, you better exercise that thirty-day return privilege. It's gorgeous. She'd be mad to turn up her nose at it."

He became thoughtful again. "I don't mean to pry, Sir, but I'm concerned about the suddenness of your decision. You don't think you'll have any trouble thinking of another woman as your wife?"

Hathaway was surprised that Lewis showed no defensiveness or resentment at all. "I'm glad you're asking me these things, Hathaway. It's important I think about them. In fact, I already have done to some extent. I had a long think about me and Laura after that weekend we never got to take together. She said something about me being an expert at loneliness and I was up half the night with that notion. I didn't like what I was finding. But I couldn't face the idea that maybe I could lose yet another person I loved. She said some things this morning that made perfect sense, though. Basically, how I'd be stupid to pass up the chance for love just because it might end in pain." He looked steadily at his sergeant then.

"Love always ends in pain, James. If it doesn't, it wasn't love. Don't be afraid of it."

Hathaway wanted to protest, to argue with Lewis about what was being implied. But he couldn't. He had his own thinking to do.

As they put on their coats to leave, Hathaway considered the change in Lewis in the last twenty-four hours. He was amazed at the self-confidence Lewis seemed to have gained, just by telling Laura how he felt. Amazed and, he had to admit, rather envious. It hardly seemed fair that the older man was finding romance this late in life for the second time, _and_ that morning, based on the sounds coming from Laura's bedroom, had experienced a level of sexual pleasure Hathaway could only imagine.

Lewis waved goodnight to Hathaway and headed home, relaxed and happy. He fixed himself a large salad and poured a glass of wine, not in the mood for a frozen, heat-and-eat meal. He had barely finished the washing up and gotten himself a second glass of wine when the doorbell rang. He set down his glass and opened the door after peeking out.

"Hey, come in, Laura. Glass of wine?"

She laughed a little. She'd been uncertain how to greet him—a buss on the cheek, a real kiss, what?—but he was so natural and at ease there was no reason to be nervous. She took the offered glass and clinked it against his. Then she leaned up and kissed him full on the lips. He smiled broadly in response.

After a sip, she put down her glass and studied his eyes. "You really meant what you said this morning?"

"A'course I did."

"Then, _yes_, Robbie. My answer is yes." His eyes lit up. "But," she continued, "_five weeks_? Can we really be married that soon?"

"Well, yeah, a'course." He thought a moment. "Unless you had your heart set on a big, fancy wedding."

She shook her head energertically. "No, no, no. Only us, a few friends, and the necessary relatives. Okay?"

His answer was to take her in his arms and kiss her long and deeply. When at last they broke apart, he pulled open a drawer under the television and took out a small box.

"Here, will you accept this? I had to guess at the size, but we can have it resized if it's not right."

The ring was simple but all the more beautiful for that. It had a marquis-cut diamond in the center, set somewhat diagonally on the white-gold band, with a round emerald on one side and a matching round sapphire on the other.

Robbie enthused. "See? It's like this one is you and this one is me and the diamond is us together."

She said nothing, and he grew anxious at her silence. "Laura? You don't like it?"

She looked up, her eyes shining with unshed tears. "It's beautiful, Robbie." Barely audible.

He grinned in relief and took the ring from its box, holding it carefully with his thumb and forefinger.

"May I?" He picked up her left hand with his. She nodded, unable to speak. He slid the ring onto her third finger, getting only slightly stuck at the knuckle.

"It's perfect, Robbie." She whispered, then hugged him as tightly as she could.

"It's _perfect_."


End file.
